I twist in the wind
Like some unhinged barber pole

Red stripes overlapping

I have been whipped

Those are not stars
They are five pointed scars

Too numerous to count

My pride was annexed years ago

The fifty first state of insanity

Borders blurred

Strop that razor
I lean back

Offer my neck

Ira Melnick is a poet from Vermont where he lives with his wife Mary, an artist in her own right, who has been composing and performing as a pianist for most of her life. Ira's poems range widely in scope, style and length. He does not title his poetry so as not to influence the reader. He has been an avid collector of music for over forty years (notes are letters, words are chords, compositions are poems). It is with the encouragement of Mary that Ira has begun his foray into the world of submitting his works for publication.

For this particular piece I took inspiration from a troubled past, imagining twisting in the wind, as if I were being hanged. The barber pole reminded me of bloody rags, and I often feel unhinged. I have only recently gained confidence in my writing, yet still I find myself leaning back and offering my neck.




Copyright 2009